


The Seeking Is the Goal

by cordeliadelayne



Series: Snupin Santa [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Light Angst, M/M, Nobody is Dead, Pre-Slash, lupin believes in snape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 21:09:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4720532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lupin thinks he wants answers from Snape, but is that all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Seeking Is the Goal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hogwartshoney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hogwartshoney/gifts).



> Set around and after the final battle in Deathly Hallows. Written as a Snupin_Santa gift for hogwartshoney in 2008.

The battle had waged long and hard. There were many losses, on both sides. The Wizarding World was free, though it would never be the same. Yet again a generation of wizards and witches had felt the touch of evil and despair. Yet again a generation must rebuild their world.

Remus Lupin, hunched down in an ill-fitting coat, looked around at the destruction that lay before him. So much death. So many dear to him killed. But Harry had prevailed, as he’d known he would. And they were safe from Voldemort’s clutches, forever this time. But he could not idle here, there was still something important he had to do. If only he could find the resolve to see it through to the end.

He began to hurry as fast he could to Hagrid’s hut, avoiding those who were still carrying bodies into the school and cleaning up. He didn’t want to see how much they had all aged during this battle; the scars they all had went deeper than skin and bone. And he had to concentrate. He had to be strong.

He thought back to the height of the battle. There had been so much confusion, so much magic being thrown about on all sides. But the minute he’d spotted him he’d recognised him. How could he not? All those years they’d known each other. No, they’d been aware of each other, but he hadn’t known him. If he had he would have given him the benefit of the doubt. But that had always been his problem, listening to others when he should be making the decisions for himself. And that ended now.

He slipped on the mud and nearly went flying, grabbing hold of a tree to stop himself from tumbling any further. He hadn’t been paying attention and had taken a longer way round than he should have. But perhaps the walk would do him good. Maybe a little time was needed for Snape to forgive him.

Once he’d followed the other man to the Shrieking Shack, seen Harry and the others, heard what Snape said… He’d been so convinced that Snape was dead and then when he’d shaken himself and hurriedly replaced his Death Eater mask, Remus couldn’t believe it. But then he should have known that Snape always had an escape plan, had always been thinking three moves ahead of the rest of them. It was Snape’s gift as well as his burden.

Of course what he hadn’t expected was for Remus to aim a Stasis Charm at him and bundle him into Hagrid’s hut. He supposed that Snape had some other escape plan in mind, now that his death had been so conveniently arranged. Perhaps he’d wanted to go abroad and start a new life. He certainly deserved that much. But if he disappeared from Remus’ life without Remus having this conversation, well then he would never forgive himself. He wanted answers. Real ones, that Snape was forced to give. He checked his pocket again to make sure the Veritaserum was still there. He didn’t really want to use it, in fact he was certain that he _wouldn’t_ use it, no matter what happened, but having it so close was reassuring all the same. If nothing else producing it would show Snape how serious he was.

He finally got to the front door of Hagrid’s hut and went to unlock it when the door creaked open. Immediately wary he pulled out his wand and peered inside. The only light came from the fire he’d lit earlier but it was enough to see that Snape was not where he had left him. Walking very slowly, senses on the alert, he began to walk inside. If Snape had somehow found a way to break the Stasis Charm, then he would not hesitate to take his revenge out on Lupin, and certainly without waiting for any explanation Lupin could make.

“Severus?” he whispered. “Please, let me explain.” He took another step inside the room and then found himself flung backwards, all the air escaping his lungs as the world turned upside down. And then there was only darkness.

* * *

“Is he dead?”

“Don’t be stupid, Ron, you can see he’s breathing.”

“What do you think happened?”

“I don’t know. It looked like the whole sky lit up. Some sort of explosion, maybe?”

“What could Hagrid have in his hut that could explode?… Uh, no, don’t answer that. Oh, look, he’s coming round.”

“-at ‘ppened?”

“You’ve been injured. Some sort of explosion, we think.”

Remus’ vision began to clear and he realised that he was lying on the grass by Hagrid’s now smoking hut and that Hermione, Ron and Harry were all upside down. No, wait, maybe it was him that was upside down.

“-elp up,” he muttered. Harry took his arm and helped him to sit up. His head felt like it was full of cotton wool and his ears were ringing. A quick look down at his body reassured him that he was still in one piece though.

“Remus, are you all right?” Hermione asked.

He nodded and then winced. No head movements for a while, then. “I’m okay. Could be worse.” He coughed to clear his throat. Smoke from the hut was filling the air, and then it just as quickly vanished.

“What just happened?” Harry asked.

“That’s some powerful magic,” Hermione whispered before Remus could answer. “Whoever cast it left it on a…a sort of timer, so that it would take effect long after they were gone.” Her expression turned thoughtful. “I wonder how many more boobytraps we’re going to find?”

Harry shook his head in disgust. “Plenty, if that’s anything to go by. Remus is lucky he wasn’t killed.”

“I don’t think killing me was the plan,” Remus huffed, a little annoyed that they were talking about him as if he wasn’t there. “He just wanted to make a point.” He started to stand up, and wobbled unsteadily until Ron and Harry helped him stand between them.

“Who did?” Hermione asked suspiciously.

Remus opened his mouth and then closed it. Perhaps it was better that they believed Snape was dead. He deserved to be free as much as anyone.

“Oh, no one.” Hermione frowned at him; it certainly wasn’t the best lie he could have come up with but he forgave himself with the thought that his brain still felt exceedingly mush-like.

“Well I hope no one isn’t planning any more of that kind of thing. We’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do,” Hermione sniffed.

Ron rolled his eyes. “Bloody hell, Hermione, I think we can take the rest of the night off, don’t you?”

Harry nodded vigorously. “Absolutely. Come on, Remus, let’s get you back.”

Remus sighed. “I don’t want to take up any time in the Infirmary. There are plenty of other people who need to be treated far more than I do.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll be fine.”

Harry looked at him sceptically. “But…”

“I’m sure there are lots of things you three need to be doing.” His gaze drifted back to the hut and his eyes focused on something near the broken door. Perhaps all was not lost after all. “And I’d like to make sure that the hut is safe. Go on,” he added as they hesitated.

“If you’re really sure?” Hermione asked. Remus nodded again and tried to look as unruffled as possible. It was a hard task considering, but the others really did have other things they needed to do.

“All right, catch you later then,” Harry told him. Remus smiled.

“I’m very proud of you,” Remus told him. “I’ll keep in touch.”

Harry blushed ever so slightly and nodded before dragging Ron and Hermione back up to the castle. If Remus’ parting words seemed a little strange, he didn’t say anything.

Remus waited impatiently for the trio to disappear out of sight. He didn’t want them to see what he was going to do, they’d only try and stop him and he didn’t want to fall out with them on the day they were supposed to be celebrating.

Finally they were gone and he hurried over to the door that was lying on its side. He took out his wand and used it to light up the area where a piece of fabric was torn against a rusty nail. There was a dark patch on it, which Remus hoped was blood. If he could track Snape through this then he’d be able to have that final conversation after all. He knew it might seem strange to some, that he wanted this last chance to have it out with Snape, but his deep sorrow at Snape being a traitor had lifted so quickly that he was heady with the relief. He wanted Snape to know that, if nothing else.

He pulled out his handkerchief and placed the fabric inside it. It looked like it came from a cape. Sparing a passing hope that it wasn’t Hagrid’s after all he wrapped it up securely and then began to trudge towards the castle. All the equipment he needed would be there, and although he felt a little bad at once again sneaking through the place, he was as determined to do so as he had been during his Marauder years.

He hastened up the path and tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. It wouldn’t do for him to be seen by the others; there were certain people who’s grief marred his own, and certain people that he knew he _should_ feel a desire to see, but didn’t. There was only one person he wanted to see right now. Only one person who he needed.

He made it to Snape’s old offices without being seen and stood in the doorway, examining the mess. Where once it had been the representation of Snape – all neatly labelled bottles and beautifully inscribed books – now it was a confused mess of broken glass and the stench of rotting ingredients.

“Oh, Severus, what has become of us?” Lupin whispered. He stepped carefully around the room, searching the bottles for the ingredients he would need; it wasn’t a difficult spell, per se, but it did require some items that he was sure Snape kept in his personal store. He just hoped they hadn’t been too destroyed by the battle.

He heard muffled voices outside the room and froze in place.

“…should burn it all…”

“…not like it. He was…”

“…murderer…”

But whoever they were they carried on passed the room and Lupin let out a grateful breath. He was more than aware of how it would look to find him here. Until Harry was able to spread the word about Snape’s sacrifice, being seen as his ally was dangerous. Of course, that all depended on what Snape had to say for himself, when he finally found where he’d gone.

Hurrying now he picked up the cauldron, checked it for damage and placed it over the fire he started with a flick of his wand. He moved with determination, grabbing hold of graveyard dirt, and a bat’s heart, bloomskang skin, flobberworm mucus, nettles and monkshood before throwing them all into the cauldron. He added three cupfuls of water and half a teaspoon of Veritaserum and began to stir them with a half-broken spoon he found on the floor.

The potion was a brown, viscous substance, but once Lupin dropped in the fabric he’d taken from Hagrid’s hut it became a mirrored surface.

“Come on,” Lupin whispered under his breath, “please.” For all Snape’s vitriol at his potion’s expertise, Lupin actually wasn’t bad at concocting most potions – it was only the most complicated ones where Snape’s skill far outshone his own.

And then there it was. The mirrored surface showed him exactly where Snape was. Lupin could see him hastily bandaging a wound on his neck and a scrape along his arm. He could see the weariness that set in the other man’s bones and, he thought, the fear.

As Snape moved around the room Lupin gasped. He recognised that table, those plates, that kitchen. And it was the last place in the world in which he’d expect Severus Snape to seek refuge.

* * *

Snape cursed under his breath as he discovered yet another spot where he was bleeding. He didn’t have time to heal himself properly, yet he didn’t want to leave a trace of himself behind. He’d only come here to collect a few belongings he’d hidden in the attic. He’d been sure that no one would think to look up there and he had been right – as the bag lying on the table evidenced. It had all he needed to make a new life – money he’d been saving as well as that which Dumbledore had pressed upon him despite his protests; a few key potion texts; two changes of clothes – one Muggle, one wizard; a Muggle passport and travelling documents; and a photo of Lily from when they were children. It was as new and fresh a start as he was hoping to get.

“Going some…” But Lupin didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, instead barely having time to duck out of the way of a bolt of magic as it flew from Snape’s wand, the spell wordless. He constructed a shield and set a stunning spell in Snape’s direction, which missed by inches.

“Did you volunteer to bring me in, wolf?” Snape sneered. “One last chance to have your fun with _Snivellus?”_ He sent a Crucio at Lupin, who barely moved out of the way in time; he retaliated by another stunning spell that Snape easily deflected.

“I’m not here to…take you…in,” Lupin panted. He moved around the kitchen warily as Snape did the same. Their wands were gripped tightly in their hands and their gazes never left the other’s face.

“Forgive me if I don’t believe a word you say,” Snape said. “I _will not_ be taken to Azkaban.” He stretched out his arm and pointed his wand directly at Lupin’s chest. “Not alive.”

Lupin took a deep breath and then slowly put his wand down on the kitchen table. Snape’s sneer became even more dismissive.

“Do you really think I would have any problem killing a defenceless man? I’ve done it before.” He laughed harshly, but it threatened to turn into a sob at the end, as his hand shook a little. But he gritted his teeth and glared at Lupin.

“I know what you did, Severus. I was in the Shrieking Shack”.

Snape’s eyes widened ever so slightly and Lupin knew he had his attention at least.

“What do you _know?”_ Snape asked.

“That you’re the bravest man I’ve ever known.” Lupin said it in such a soft manner, with such conviction, that Snape was momentarily dumbfounded. It was enough time for Lupin to walk around the table and stand in front of Snape, Snape’s wand in his still outstretched arm, digging into Lupin’s chest. “I’m not going to stop you leaving, but I would like to talk. No one else knows I’m here. We won’t be disturbed.”

“You came to see a murderer without telling anyone, and you leave yourself unprotected,” Snape scoffed. “How very Gryffindor.”

Lupin saw the photo sticking out of Snape’s bag and a familiar shock of red hair. “You weren’t always so dismissive of all things Gryffindor.”  
For the first time Snape’s eyes slid from Lupin’s face down to his bag and then back again. “She wasn’t a Gryffindor then.”

“No, she was your friend.”

Snape winced at the word. “And I suppose you know all about _friendship?”_

Lupin gave a crooked smile. “I don’t know everything.”

Snape stared into his eyes and Lupin could feel Snape’s mind pushing at his own. “All you have to do is ask.”

Snape’s mind immediately retracted and Snape took several steps back, though he kept his wand steadily aimed at Lupin’s chest.

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“You can have my apologies.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “For what?”

“For believing you to be a murderer.”

Snape’s harsh laugh made Lupin take a step back, his knees banging into one of the kitchen chair’s – Sirius’ favourite spot. “I _am_ a murderer, Lupin.” There was something wild and primal in the way Snape spoke and Lupin had to bite his bottom lip to keep his moan from escaping.

“That wasn’t murder, that was mercy,” Lupin finally said once he’d got control of himself.

Snape threw his wand down disgustedly on the table and turned his back on Lupin. He marched over to the sink and grabbed a glass before pouring himself a drink. Both men stayed silent as they listened to the old pipes struggling to life.

“Dumbledore is not the only one to die because of me.” Snape’s voice was unusually quiet, his shoulders hunched in a way that made Lupin long to reach out and touch them.

“You’ve spent your whole life making amends, Severus. You bested Voldemort at his own game. You should be very proud of that.”

Snape turned around curiously. “Why are you here?”

“I told you.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Lupin shifted uncomfortably. He was dismayed to find that what he thought he’d wanted at Hogwarts and what he wanted here at Grimmauld Place differed so much. Answers had never been what he wanted, not if he were being honest with himself.

“Well?” Snape asked, his tone brooking no hesitation.

“I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

Snape looked at him incredulously. “What?”

“It’s what I’ve always wanted, Severus. You know that.”

Snape sighed, but didn’t deny it. Instead he moved over to his bag and checked its contents.

“You’re still leaving?” Lupin asked, sitting down.

“I can hardly stay here.”

“Harry will make sure everyone knows the truth. So will I.”

Snape closed his eyes and stood there for a minute, not saying anything. Lupin watched as his body slowly unclenched, the tension almost palpably leaving him.

“Come with me.” The words were hardly above a whisper, but Lupin’s ears picked them out easily enough.

“Always,” Lupin replied before he’d given himself time to think about it. Snape turned and regarded him curiously. But then he nodded and Lupin couldn’t contain a small smile, or the swell of hope in his chest.


End file.
